


Bound to Be

by Celandine



Series: Narnia Sequence [19]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Angst, Community: livelongnmarry, Drama, First Time, Frottage, Incest, Infidelity, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-02
Updated: 2008-11-02
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:01:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celandine/pseuds/Celandine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the time Eustace falls in love with Edmund, it takes years before anything happens... but some things are bound to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound to Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Realpestilence](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Realpestilence).



Eustace wondered, afterward, if the fact that Edmund had been the first person he saw and spoke with after his un-dragoning -- that Edmund had been the person to whom he felt comfortable telling what had happened -- in some way presaged everything that came later.

It certainly was not until after that night that he began to think of Edmund as a real person, someone he might like, not just as one of his annoying Pevensie cousins. The way that Edmund had listened when Eustace talked, had seemed to _care_ about what had happened, made Eustace realise that perhaps Edmund didn't despise him or look down on him as he had always supposed.

He began to watch Edmund the day that the _Dawn Treader_ left Dragon Island. Not stare, not follow him around, but simply observe him. Edmund had been a king, and although Eustace had never had much use for the notion of ruling monarchs -- far too old-fashioned and of questionable worth in a modern society -- he saw that there was something about the way that Edmund and Caspian (and Lucy too, a bit) acted that set them apart from the others aboard ship. It was a self-assurance, Eustace decided, that never quite became cockiness. A self-command great enough to listen to others and learn from them without being threatened.

Eustace admired, even rather envied that. Harold and Alberta's friends were all terribly clever, but they liked to show off their cleverness. They either tried to put each other down in conversation, or else divided up their areas of competence so finely that there was no one against whom they could be measured. Eustace thought it would be much nicer to be like Edmund, liked as well as respected.

"Would you teach me how to use a sword?" he asked several mornings later as the wind made the sail flap above them in the sunlight.

Edmund stared at him for a moment, and Eustace flushed, remembering how at the beginning of their adventure he had asserted that he was a pacifist.

"It seems as if it might be useful, and anyway a sword is more honourable than a gun," Eustace muttered.

"What's a gun?" asked Caspian.

"Don't let's talk about guns," Lucy said with a shudder.

"As you wish." Caspian gave Lucy a little bow. "But since you are keen to learn the sword, Eustace, I will lend you one of mine. Either Edmund or I can instruct you."

"I too would be happy to do so," piped Reepicheep.

"I... I think you might be too skilled for me," said Eustace awkwardly. He was really thinking "too small," though he knew the Mouse was considered a dangerous fighter. He had appreciated Reepicheep's efforts to cheer him when Eustace had been a dragon, and didn't want to hurt Reepicheep's feelings.

"Better to be taught by one more skilled." Reepicheep cocked his head, drawing his sword and twirling it.

"We could all help," Edmund offered, and Eustace smiled gratefully at him.

The lessons began that very morning. Eustace found that, in fact, Reepicheep was an excellent instructor despite his size, better at explaining things than either of the other two, although because of the differences in how his and Eustace's legs and arms moved, Eustace could not always do everything suggested.

Eustace practised with the Mouse for over an hour, which Reepicheep said was more than enough for a first lesson. He rested in the shade by Lucy afterward, his eyes turned toward Edmund, who was standing with Caspian by the rail. Caspian's hair gleamed gold in the sunshine, but it was the darker Edmund to whom Eustace's gaze was drawn.

Unaccustomed muscles ached from the exercise, but Eustace's heart was sorer, watching them. He had hoped -- for what? Suddenly he felt foolish, a sheepdog puppy hoping for a word of praise for its inexpert chasing of the sheep.

"You did well," said Lucy softly at his elbow. She followed his glance. "Both Caspian and Edmund thought so, I know."

"Did they?" Eustace couldn't help asking.

She nodded. "I know my brother well enough to be sure of that."

Eustace would have liked to have heard it from Edmund's own lips, but for that time he had to be content with Lucy's assertion.

He practised each day for the rest of the voyage under Reepicheep's tutelage. His moment of greatest triumph, however, came not long after the beginning of his lessons, when the Sea Serpent attacked. Without stopping to let himself think, Eustace drew the sword that Caspian had lent him and began to hack at the creature's long scaly neck. To his dismay the scales were impenetrable, and indeed the sword broke upon them, though he kept up his efforts with the shattered remnants until he heard Caspian calling for everyone to push instead.

After they had escaped from the menace, Eustace apologised to Caspian for destroying the sword.

Caspian laughed it off, saying, "Better it should come to such a worthy end," and arranged for Eustace to borrow a sword from Drinian so that he might continue practising.

All through those weeks Eustace tried hard not to let anyone see how he watched Edmund, being especially careful on the rare occasions when Edmund was alone on deck. It would be all right if someone thought he was admiring Caspian; everyone seemed to. There was a kind of aura about Caspian, perhaps because he was king, perhaps just because he was himself. Eustace wasn't sure. Days and weeks of watching the two of them together, though, made Eustace realise how deep their affections for each other ran, and forced him to acknowledge the qualities in Caspian that had doubtless attracted Edmund. _Edmund's_ virtues Eustace had no trouble in recognising, nor his physical attributes, which indeed Eustace found himself dwelling on more every day, though he concealed that.

He might have fallen into melancholy, but that his attempts to learn swordsmanship both invigorated and exhausted him, so that he slept each night deeply and undisturbed.

When Caspian declared that he would go on to the End of the World, Eustace felt for a bit as if he might suffocate. The one thing he had counted on was that if and when he returned to his own world -- which seemed more distant day by day -- it would be only himself and his cousins who did so. He could not imagine any of the Narnians going there. To his relief, though, it was but a short time before Caspian acknowledged that he could not leave... and it was a greater, if guiltier, relief when Edmund and Lucy were told that they could not again return to Narnia.

Harold and Alberta's house seemed cramped and dull after his return, and all its open windows were as nothing compared to the fresh breezes he had grown accustomed to on the _Dawn Treader_. Eustace quickly realised that he had changed irrevocably, in ways that made his parents not quite comfortable. He was almost glad when the summer holidays were over and it was time to return to Experiment House, though it also meant that Edmund and Lucy returned to their schools as well, and he would not see Edmund until at least the next holiday.

* * *

  
"What are you doing, Scrubb?"

Eustace very consciously did not try to cover up the sheet of paper on which he'd been writing. "Just a letter," he said carelessly. "To my cousin. He borrowed something of mine over the hols and I wanted to see if I could get it back."

The strategy worked.

"Oh," said Quentin, clearly losing interest. "You've finished with your Latin prep, then?"

Eustace nodded.

"Can I have a look?"

Eustace hesitated, but nodded again. Students were not, of course, supposed to copy from one another, but if he refused there was no telling what Quentin might do. And if, as was also possible, he didn't give it back tonight, Eustace could manage to make it up tomorrow somehow.

Quentin took the neatly-written pages with a nod and a smirk and went off to the table where his friends were sitting.

Eustace gave a silent sigh of relief. He really oughtn't to risk writing like this. He'd never _send_ any of the letters, in fact he burned them each night after he had finished each one, but that didn't mean someone might not grab one and read it before Eustace destroyed it.

And yet he hated to give it up. Even unsent, the letters were the only way he had of feeling that he was close to Edmund, however spurious and illusory a connection it might be. He would just have to be more careful.

Eustace folded the paper small and stuffed it in his pocket for later disposal, then pulled his stack of books closer. Tucked into the centre was the copy of Malory's _King Arthur_ that he'd found tucked among the dusty old volumes of Gibbon and Macaulay on the common room shelf, probably sitting there untouched since the days before Experiment House had been a school, back before the First World War when this had still been someone's stately home.

Malory was another indulgence concerning which Eustace knew he should be cautious, but it was practically irresistible. He wondered how he could ever have read the sort of dry books of facts that he used to like, or despised tales like these of derring-do and heroism and chivalry. He bent his head over the crackling pages and was swept up in the tragic triangle of King Arthur and the queen Guinevere and the great knight Lancelot.

"Scrubb," said his maths professor wearily the next day. "Please go to the blackboard and demonstrate how to solve exercise six on page 142, if you would?"

Rising, Eustace went to the board and solved the equation -- or tried to. A gasp from behind him indicated that he had gone wrong somewhere, but as he stared at the figures he couldn't tell where he'd made the mistake.

"Sit down, Scrubb. Andrewes, would you please carry on?"

Eustace returned to his seat, shamed. He had completely forgotten to do his maths prep; he had intended to do it after he had finished his letter, but Quentin's interruption had distracted him. If he wasn't careful, he would get poor marks this term, and then Harold would sit him down for one of those dreadful father-son chats that Eustace loathed. Perhaps he had better both stop writing to Edmund and reading the Arthurian legends for the duration of the term... but it would be hard, very hard. Now that his imagination and his emotions had both been wakened, Eustace was reluctant to risk them going to sleep again.

He worried the thought over in his mind for a while, and then it occurred to him that if he gave up the letter-writing and the romance-reading, it was a bit like Edmund being told he couldn't return to Narnia any more. That made Eustace feel better, almost noble, for making such a sacrifice on his own. He held to it pretty steadily for the rest of the term, reminding himself of how kings behaved when Stebbins tried to get the truth out of him about the rabbit by forcing Eustace to keep from going to the loo for over twenty-four hours.

He couldn't stop himself from thinking about his adventures in Narnia from time to time at quiet moments, though. It was at one such moment that he came upon Pole, one of the few girls in his class who seemed to be a decent sort with some common sense about her, blubbing behind the gym.

* * *

  
After the dreadful way that he arrived in Narnia, and the even greater shock of discovering that Caspian was still alive but an old, old man, both of which he was inclined to chalk up to Pole's account although he knew that the latter at least was unfair, Eustace was dismayed, to say the least, when Puddleglum suggested that he and Pole share blankets for warmth on Ettinsmoor.

That dismay was nothing compared to what happened the next morning. He had been dreaming pleasantly of practising the sword with Caspian as he used to do, and winning, while Edmund looked on, and he woke with a very natural physical reaction. Before he could move away from Pole or hide it, though, she had wakened, and to his shock, touched him _there_ , stroking him until he came in a rush of heat matched by the scalding shame on his face. He had daydreamed about doing that with Edmund, but he had certainly never expected anything of the sort to happen with Pole, whom he didn't even know that well, and who was a girl besides. She didn't have the reputation of being a slag. Did she expect him to reciprocate? He had no idea what girls liked or what she might expect.

But Pole didn't ask for anything physical, to his relief. Instead over the next few days somehow she persuaded him to tell her about Edmund. She would ask him questions about his adventures on the _Dawn Treader_ , and Eustace tried hard to conceal his affection for his cousin, talking about Caspian instead, and Reepicheep and the others. All of these stories pleased Puddleglum, who commented more than once in his own backhanded way that he enjoyed hearing tales of the king in his youth. Eustace's strategy backfired when it came to Pole herself, however.

"Why do you never say much about your cousin Edmund?" Pole asked one day, as they were picking their way over a barren stretch of ground. Puddleglum was walking a little ways ahead, trying to see if he could find and shoot a grouse for their dinner.

"Don't I?" said Eustace as casually as he could manage.

Pole shook her head. "And you always get a funny look in your face when you _do_ mention him. Is it that..." she hesitated. "Is it that you fancy him? That's it, I knew it," she said triumphantly when Eustace could not control the colour rushing up his face. "You said you'd never done, well, _you_ know, with any girls, so I wondered if perhaps you liked boys better. It's all right, it doesn't bother me."

Eustace swallowed and looked at her cautiously. "Doesn't it?"

"No. Why should it?"

That was a question to which Eustace could find no reasonable answer, it was so self-evident to him. "Because... because it's illegal?" he offered weakly at last.

"Is it? I don't think I knew that. But it doesn't matter anyway. If it is then that's a stupid law. Fancy making laws about who you can fall in love with." Pole shrugged. "Much better instead to make laws to stop people hurting each other, I think."

Put like that, it did seem ridiculous, Eustace had to agree. "But you mustn't tell anyone," he cautioned. "Even if you don't think it matters, you know that lots of people will, back home."

"Of course not," Pole said.

Looking at Pole, Eustace believed her. After that he felt able to talk about Edmund a bit more when he reminisced at night, although he also tried not to let his face give him away to Puddleglum.

It was rather pleasant, in fact, to be able to confide in Pole. He might not have _wanted_ to reveal his secret to anyone except -- someday -- perhaps -- Edmund himself, but Pole was a good listener. Eustace found himself thinking of her more and more not so much as a girl, but just as a friend. He caught her giving him thoughtful looks from time to time, and eventually she astonished him by suggesting that if he was serious about liking Edmund, he was going to need to persuade his cousin that he was serious, and it might be a good idea to have some physical experience to support his case. Even more astonishingly, she suggested that _she_ would be suitable for helping him acquire that experience.

"I _know_ I'm not a boy," she said impatiently when Eustace pointed out the obvious. "But I can help you learn how to kiss better and things of that sort, _and_ you'll be able to say for sure that it isn't girls you really fancy if you've tried being with one."

There was certain amount of logic to her proposal, and Eustace promised to think it over, although they didn't really have the opportunity to do much in Narnia, not with Puddleglum there all the time.

* * *

  
Back at Experiment House, though, Eustace decided that perhaps Jill was right. He would feel odd about being with any boy except Edmund, really; all his fantasies of kissing Edmund were wrapped up in having seen his cousin with Caspian, the way that the two of them looked at each other with such intense tenderness. He had imagined himself as Caspian in Edmund's arms many times. But being with a girl, with Jill, didn't feel like a betrayal in the same way, and he did want to be able to go to Edmund knowing what he was doing, not to embarrass himself through ignorance.

So the two of them began to meet in secret, usually once or twice a week, in various places on the school grounds. Eustace suggested that they might study together as well, but Jill shook her head.

"If we do _that_ , then people will think of us as a couple, the way that they do with Jackson and Barnett, and then someone will notice if we both disappear at the same time... and perhaps come looking for us."

He marvelled again at her logic and had to agree that she was probably correct.

They learned quite a lot from each other over the next several terms. Starting with kisses, they moved on to other things quite soon, to their mutual enjoyment. They discovered to their surprise that Eustace's nipples were more sensitive than Jill's were, but that Jill could come again and again if Eustace sucked her nipple and fingered her clit at the same time.

"Are you planning to go to university?" Jill asked him one day as they were hastily tidying their clothes. "I've rather assumed you were, but I realised I'd never actually asked."

"Oh yes." Eustace straightened his tie. "Harold and Alberta expect nothing less. I'll be trying for Oxford or Cambridge. I'd rather it was Cambridge, even though I might have to live with my parents; Edmund is at Trinity Hall there. Though he's supposed to finish this year, he might stay on for post-graduate work, perhaps at one of the other colleges, I don't know."

"I see." Jill's voice was considering. "Have you ever, you know, told him how you feel?"

Eustace shook his head. "I don't see him very often. It's not the sort of thing one wants to put into a letter, not out of nowhere."

"You should think about it," said Jill firmly, and did up the last buttons of her cardigan. "If what you've told me about him is true, that he was really in love with Caspian, it must be dreadful for him to know that he'll never see Caspian again."

She was right, as usual, and Eustace began seriously to contemplate the possibilities. He and Harold and Alberta were going to spend Christmas at the Pevensies' house. The two sisters traded years, and Eustace's aunt was accustomed to providing vegetarian fare for her sister's family, although Eustace in fact was quite happy to eat meat these days, between his time at school and his visits to Narnia. He just didn't let Alberta see him doing it.

Eustace smiled gamely when his Aunt Bea put before him a plate with a nut cutlet on it. The roast beef smelled delicious, although he could see that his parents were wrinkling their noses. Perhaps he could slip into the kitchen and make himself a sandwich at teatime. Meanwhile, he loaded up his plate with roast potatoes and sprouts and all the other good things there were to eat.

"How are your studies going, Edmund?" asked Albert, ignoring Peter, who had gone into a stockbroker's firm after university. Harold still had hope that his younger nephew might become an academic.

"Well, thank you," said Edmund. He looked politely across the table at his uncle, but Eustace could see the lack of any expression on his face.

"Studying mathematics, aren't you?"

"Yes, uncle."

"A useful discipline. Very useful." Harold nodded. "A good choice for you."

"Do tell us about your young man, Susan," put in Alberta. "Bea, you told me he was called William Clapham?"

"Will, yes," said Susan, blushing a little. "He's a solicitor with a big firm in the city."

Beside Eustace, Lucy nudged his ankle, and when Eustace glanced at her, she rolled her eyes unobtrusively. Eustace gave her a small grin, and then turned his attention to his meal, except that between bites he would glance across the table at Edmund, who had put on a forced-looking smile and was eating steadily. Eustace wondered if perhaps his studies _weren't_ going well, but he didn't really believe that of Edmund, who had, after all, won a scholarship.

After dinner the women all disappeared into the kitchen to do the washing up, and the men went and talked over drinks in the front room -- mulled wine for Peter and Uncle Stephen, orange juice for Harold and Eustace. The others were talking about political affairs, and Eustace felt very young and stupid, not knowing much since one hardly learned such things at Experiment House.

He listened for a bit, but quickly grew bored. Edmund had slipped away somewhere after dinner, up to his room, Eustace suspected. He put down his empty glass, murmured an excuse that no one paid attention to, and went to find Edmund.

The door to the room that Edmund and Peter had always shared was nearly closed but not latched. Eustace pushed it open. Edmund was sitting on the window seat, which had once held all sorts of things like jars of frog spawn and a small microscope and piles of battered books, but now was bare except for a stained blue cushion, upon which Edmund was sitting. In the bright winter sunlight that came through the panes, the bones of his face stood out harshly, and Eustace thought to himself that Edmund must have looked so when he was near the end of his reign in Narnia.

"What is it, Pete?" said Edmund without opening his eyes, closed against the sun.

Eustace stepped into the room and shut the door behind him with a click, his heart beating wildly. "It isn't Peter, it's me."

"Eustace?" Edmund eyes flew open. "What, did they send you to bring me down to be sociable?" There was an edge of angry bitterness in his voice. "I really don't feel like it. Tell them I ate too much and am feeling ill or something."

"That's not why I'm here," said Eustace quietly. He took a few steps closer and lifted his chin, hoping that his voice wouldn't wobble. Unconsciously he assumed the stance that he had learned when taught how to handle a sword by Reepicheep and Caspian and Edmund himself on the _Dawn Treader_. "I know how you're feeling, how much you miss him."

He saw a muscle in Edmund's cheek twitch, and hastily went on. "I know I'm not Caspian, but I'm _here_." He sat on the window seat at Edmund's feet. "I'd do anything for you, Edmund. I mean that. You don't have to be alone."

Edmund sighed and shook his head. "That's very kind of you, Eustace, but I don't need your pity."

"It isn't pity," Eustace insisted, keeping his voice level and calm, "and I know what I'm saying. What I'm offering." He let his glance flicker down to Edmund's trousers, and wet his lips. "I know what I'm offering," he repeated.

Silence filled the room then as Edmund looked hard at Eustace's face. "I suppose perhaps you do, at that, but..." He trailed off, swallowing hard, and Eustace could see the dampness on Edmund's lashes as he blinked his eyes rapidly.

"I can't stop thinking of him, you know," said Edmund in a choked voice. "You told me how you'd seen him young again, in Aslan's country, and he even had a few moments here in England; he'd always wanted to see our world. The last time I saw him he was younger than I am now, and I suppose that is the age he'll be always. But I'll grow older and older without him -- and who knows if I can ever reach Aslan's country, now that he has forbidden me Narnia." His voice was so sad that Eustace wanted to weep too.

"You know I love Caspian. I always shall." Edmund met Eustace's gaze again. "I don't know that I could ever love anyone else the way I do him."

"I don't expect you to." Eustace swallowed. "I saw how you looked at him on the _Dawn Treader_ , and how he looked at you. Nothing could tarnish that. But I've loved you too, for years, and it hurts me to see you so unhappy. Please, Edmund. Will you not let me comfort you?"

He lifted his hand toward Edmund, who leaned forward a little, accepting the touch on his cheek. Then Edmund raised his own hand to Eustace's and clasped it.

"I guessed that you felt this way," he murmured. "I tried not to notice, but I saw you watching."

Eustace flushed. "Yes," he admitted. "I used to write you letters, too."

"You did? I never received any." Edmund raised his eyebrows.

"I never actually _sent_ any of them. I was too embarrassed. I used to write them during evening prep and then burn them."

"Ah," said Edmund softly. "I didn't have that comfort; no post goes from England to Narnia, after all."

Eustace laughed a little. "It wasn't much comfort, really, and I was nearly caught more than once."

The lines of Edmund's body had softened somewhat as they spoke, and he no longer looked as tense and unhappy as when Eustace had entered the room. Eustace drew hope from that, as well as from the fact that Edmund had not refused him, not yet at any rate. He lifted the hand that Edmund held and kissed Edmund's fingertips. "You are too noble to toy with me, King Edmund," he said in formal tones, and watched a spark flash in Edmund's eye. "If my admiration is repugnant to you, tell me and I will not again trouble you with it."

"No, cousin." Edmund's voice was a bare whisper. "But you know that the law frowns on any physical acts of affection between two men. Not just the law, either; society at large despises my sort."

" _Our_ sort," Eustace corrected him.

Edmund gave him a sad smile. "I know that _I_ have no romantic interest in women at all, but I thought you might."

"Enough to know that while I can be friends with... with a girl, and even enjoy a physical relationship with her, I prefer _you_ ," said Edmund. "You are the one I think of at such times."

Colour flooded Edmund's cheeks. "Truly?"

"Truly." Eustace nodded firmly.

Edmund let out a shuddering sigh. "Well, then, in the name of the Lion I tell you that your affection does not at all repulse me. But this is not the time nor the place."

Reluctantly, Eustace had to agree. Much as he longed to lie in Edmund's embrace, it would be imprudent, here where Peter or anyone might walk in at any moment.

Edmund drew him closer and kissed him, however, a kiss that held more of passion than Eustace had ever known. After that single kiss Edmund drew back, saying, "We will find an opportunity, Eustace, I promise you that. Sometime during these holidays."

Eustace's heart sang with happiness, so loudly that he could not speak, only nod acceptance. Edmund gave him a quick embrace.

"Now go downstairs, cousin, and I will be along soon. And thank you -- I feel a bit more like it's Christmas, now."

Which was exactly what Eustace would have hoped to hear. He touched Edmund's hand once more and then left, going to the kitchen for another glass of juice and finding only Lucy there.

"Were you talking to Edmund?" she asked. When Eustace nodded, she said, "I'm glad. He's seemed unhappy lately; it's difficult to tell since I don't see him that often, but that's been my impression. And he hasn't wanted to talk about his troubles with me. I hope you were able to him cheer him up?"

"I hope so," see Eustace, going over to the refrigerator. "Do you suppose I could have a sandwich?"

"Roast beef?" Lucy gave him a conspiratorial grin, and Eustace smiled back.

"How did you guess?"

"I saw the way you were eyeing the platter at dinner." Lucy pulled out the leftover meat, and began spreading horseradish on a piece of bread. "You should be all right if you eat quickly. Susan is up in our room mending a blouse, and Aunt Alberta and my mother went for a walk. I don't think they'll be back for at least twenty minutes."

"Marvellous. Thank you," he added gratefully as Lucy handed him the sandwich. "This is delicious."

"It's the least I can do, especially if you've made Edmund feel better, whatever is distressing him."

When he returned to the front room, Eustace was able to mumble, "Talking with cousin Lucy," to Harold's query as to where he had been. And, true to his word, Edmund reappeared quite soon, now willing to talk to his father and uncle about his progress at university. Eustace was content merely to listen, watching Edmund and trying not to think about Edmund's promise that they would be together soon, lest his desire be too prominently displayed.

From the half-daze into which he had slipped, Eustace was roused when he heard Edmund mention his name.

"I was thinking, Uncle Harold," said Edmund in earnest tones, "that perhaps Eustace might come and visit for another day or two this holiday."

Uncle Stephen raised his eyebrows at the issuance of this invitation, but said nothing, and Edmund continued.

"I know he's probably, almost certainly, off to university next year and I thought perhaps it would be useful for him to talk to me about it. Especially if he ends up at Cambridge instead of Oxford, there might be some useful advice I might give, you know; being an undergraduate rather than a don like you gives one a different perspective. And we could also go into London to see the Natural History Museum. I remember he always liked that when he was younger, and I'd enjoy going myself."

Eustace wasn't sure if this was Edmund's scheme for the two of them being able to spend time together. It must be, but on the other hand if Eustace stayed at the Pevensies' house, what sort of opportunities could they have? He held his breath, waiting for his father to speak.

"Well, Stephen, if you've no objection and Eustace wants to see more of his cousins, I can't imagine that Alberta and I would object," said Harold, smoothing his moustache. "Do the boy good, I expect."

"Certainly," said Uncle Stephen, although he still looked puzzled.

When Harold had gone a few minutes later to use the toilet, Peter leaned forward.

"No offense, Ed, nor to you either, Eustace, but what's this all about?"

"Yes," Uncle Stephen agreed. "I've no objection to Eustace visiting, but this is a bit unexpected."

Edmund said, "It just seemed like a good idea, Father. Besides, one of my university friends has a flat in Kensington. He's often offered me the chance to stop over there if I happened to be in the city. I'm sure Reginald wouldn't mind if Eustace stopped too. Then we wouldn't have to take the long train ride into the city and back again all in one day."

"Find out from this Reginald for sure before you make any plans," said Uncle Stephen. "If he is willing, then that seems to me to be feasible."

"Of course, Father," said Edmund, but Eustace saw the badly-concealed quirk at the corner of his mouth, and wondered what Edmund had in mind. "Shall I telephone him?"

"That would probably be the best. Then we can settle the arrangements." Uncle Stephen turned to Eustace. "If Edmund's friend isn't able to put you up, then of course you'll simply stay here. We can easily squeeze a cot into the boys' room for you."

"Not _easily_ ," Peter muttered, but he said it under his breath and his father chose to take no notice.

"I'll go ring Reggie now." Edmund stood up and left the room.

"I believe I'll have another drink," said Uncle Stephen, rising as well. "One for you, Pete? Can I get you anything, Eustace?"

Peter gave his glass to his father, but Eustace shook his head.

When they were alone in the room, Peter said, "I don't know what you and Ed are up to, although I might hazard a guess. I wish you luck, in any case." His own expression bore a curious mingling of sternness and regret.

Eustace flushed. "Thank you."

"At least you --" Peter broke off. "Never mind."

"At least I what?"

"Well..."

Eustace could tell that Peter was searching for a reply.

"At least you and Edmund can talk about Narnia," Peter said finally. "As long as there's no one else around, that is."

"Yes." Eustace spoke the word with intensity. That was something that he had always particularly appreciated about Jill, that she enjoyed talking over their time in Narnia as much as he did. Of course she had only been there for his second adventure, whereas Edmund had been there for the first, and Eustace had never had much chance to reminisce with his cousin.

Shortly thereafter Edmund himself came back, grinning. "We can both stay at Reginald's," he announced. "No trouble there."

"Does the day matter?" asked Harold, who had also returned.

Edmund shook his head. "I was thinking that Eustace could come down on the twenty-seventh or twenty-eighth and he and I would go in to London that afternoon and stay at Reginald's, then to the museum the next day, and back home that evening, but we could as easily do it the other way around; have Eustace stop the first night here, we go to London and stay there the next night, and then he could go straight home to Cambridge the following day."

"The second plan sounds more sensible to me," said Uncle Stephen.

"I agree," said Harold. "We'll buy him a ticket to come here on the twenty-eighth, then, and directly back from London on the thirtieth. Then he'll have a few days at home before term time starts again."

* * *

  
Eustace returned to his cousins' three days later, to be met by Edmund at the station.

"The best part of it," said Edmund quietly as they were walking back to the Pevensies' house, "is that Reginald wasn't actually be _at_ his flat when we're there. He's sent me his spare keys and says we're to make ourselves at home."

Eustace nearly dropped his overnight case at hearing this. "Did he, does he..." he stuttered, uncertain how to ask the question he wanted to know.

"He's, hm, 'one of us' as you might say," Edmund acknowledged, "and I knew he would understand if I brought you there, but the fact that he'll be up in Lincoln is sheer coincidence; his sister just had a baby boy and he's to be godfather."

"I see," said Eustace faintly. It all suddenly seemed more real than he'd expected, these years of daydreaming about Edmund.

"Do you really want to do this?" Edmund sounded worried. "I know you _said_ you did, but if you've changed your mind, I'll understand."

"No. No, I _do_ want this. Want you." Eustace couldn't quite manage to look at Edmund as he said it. "Only I've not been with another boy before, so you'll have to show me what to do."

"Of course." Edmund voice was slightly hoarse. "I won't mind that at all. As long as you're certain."

"I'm certain," Eustace asserted, and they left the conversation there as they went into the Pevensies' house.

"By the way, I think Peter knows, or guesses," Eustace said to Edmund as he put his case on the cot that had been set up for him. "About why I'm here visiting."

"Probably." Edmund stretched out on his own bed and propped himself on his elbow, looking at Eustace. "You needn't worry about it, though. He has secrets of his own to keep."

"Surely he's not," Eustace swallowed, "queer, too?"

Edmund shook his head. "Not as a regular thing, certainly, although I'd be surprised if he hadn't been with a bloke or two. Actually I _know_ he has, but it isn't his preference. But whatever I know or guess about Pete isn't mine to tell. Just be sure that he won't feel the need to expose either of us."

He patted the narrow mattress beside him. "Come here."

Eustace pushed the door shut first, until the latch clicked, then gingerly went to sit beside Edmund. He stroked Edmund's hair, which had darkened somewhat over the years, although Peter's and Lucy's had remained golden. The strands were soft underneath his fingers, far shorter than Jill's.

After a few moments Edmund caught his wrist and drew him down into a kiss. His tongue licked along the seam of Eustace's lips, and Eustace gladly yielded to him. Whatever Edmund's feelings might be, however much he might have wished that it were Caspian here beside him, he didn't let that stop him from giving Eustace a full measure of passion in his kiss, gentle and strong as a summer storm, until Eustace was drenched and gasping with the force of it.

"Edmund," he whispered, and Edmund replied, "I know. Tomorrow."

They both sighed. Eustace could feel the slow insistent throb of his prick, trapped uncomfortably by his pants against his belly. He wriggled his hips forward until he met Edmund's answering hardness.

"Please, can't we...?"

It wasn't all that he wanted from Edmund, not by a long shot, although he was still nervous about the following day despite his desire. Yet since they were alone together, so close that he could see the spot of stubble under Edmund's jaw that he had missed while shaving, smell the scent of Edmund's sweat on his skin, Eustace wanted to do _something_ now, at least.

"Eustace, I... oh, bugger it. All right." Edmund put his hand on Eustace's bum, kneading it, pulling them even closer. "Just like this, though, we can't take anything off, not here."

"No," Eustace agreed. He kissed Edmund again, frantically, feeling as though he might explode with pleasure -- and then he _did_ , undone by the thought that he was really here, with Edmund, that Edmund was feeling just as aroused as Eustace himself. He shuddered and clenched at Edmund's shoulders, a hoarse whimper forcing its way out of his throat as the sticky heat pulsed damp into his pants.

Edmund was still rocking his hips, thrusting against Eustace, and Eustace held on, pushing back, until Edmund stiffened and hissed and Eustace knew that he had come too.

They lay together for a while, until Edmund pointed out that Eustace had better put in an appearance, and then hastily cleaned up a bit and went downstairs.

Peer was still at his parents' for the holidays, but Susan had gone. When Eustace asked at dinner, Aunt Bea explained that Susan had several social engagements with her young man, so it made sense for her to be back at the flat she shared in London with another girl instead.

Apparently Lucy had told her mother that Eustace would eat meat if his own parents weren't around, for Aunt Bea hadn't made anything special for him, just handed round the bowls and platters with a smile and let him take what he liked.

After dinner Uncle Stephen read the evening paper and Aunt Bea listened to a programme on the wireless, and Eustace and his three cousins sat around the table, ostensibly playing Spillikins but in reality talking in low voices about Narnia. Eustace sat beside Edmund on one long side of the table, and after a bit he felt Edmund's knee press against his own.

They walked to the train station not too early the next morning, through a dense chilly mist that had rimed every leaf and twig with white frost.

"We'll go to Reginald's flat first," said Edmund. "We don't want to be carrying our overnight cases around the city, even if we could check them with our coats at the museum."

Eustace nodded, feeling shy again. He would have liked to take Edmund's hand for comfort, but knew that they didn't dare risk being seen so. Instead he let their legs press together again and looked out the train window at the roads and buildings slipping by.

Reginald's flat, when they reached it, proved to be in a dingy building that looked as if it had been damaged during the war and repaired rather hastily afterward. Once upon a time, Eustace thought, it might have had a porter at the entrance, but now there was a set of doorbells instead. Edmund ignored those, reaching into his pocket for the keys that Reginald had sent him and unlocking the door as if he did this regularly.

"He's at the top of the building, fourth floor," said Edmund, and they climbed the four flights of stairs, Eustace following Edmund.

"You've been here before?" he ventured.

"Yes." Edmund was fumbling a little with the key to the flat in the dim light of the hallway. At last he flung the door open. "Not _with_ Reggie though, if you know what I mean. He and I have always been just good friends."

"Of course." Eustace felt a little ashamed to have doubted Edmund's constancy to Caspian... although Edmund wasn't going to be faithful anymore, was he? That was the whole point of them being here today. He shook his head to clear his muddled thoughts.

"Eustace." Edmund had put down his overnight case, and now he came to Eustace and took his away too, setting it beside his own. "Eustace. Do you want to go out to the museum right away, or would you rather stop here for a little first?"

Eustace took a breath. Edmund was standing close enough that he could smell the scent of the soap with which he'd washed his face that morning, and a prickle of sweat below that. Edmund's eyes were patient, waiting for him to answer.

"Let's stay here," he managed to say at last.

"Marvellous." Edmund smiled and put his arm around Eustace, guiding him toward the spare room. "We'll have plenty of time after lunch to go out."

It was odd, undressing in the unfamiliar room, and in front of Edmund, and Eustace was briefly worried that Edmund would look at him and find him lacking, but by the time he was naked Edmund was too, and pulled him into an embrace. The feel of bare warm skin all along his body was unbelievable; at Experiment House he and Jill had rarely had the time or opportunity to be completely naked like this, and moreover this was _Edmund_ , and he could feel Edmund's prick hardening against him, twin to his own growing excitement.

"You said you'd never done this before?" Edmund murmured against Eustace's neck. His lips travelled along the skin to the hollow of Eustace's throat where he sucked gently, so as not to leave a visible mark.

"Not with another bloke." Eustace shivered at the sensation of Edmund's lips and tongue, which were sending delightful shocks along his nerves.

"Mm. Well. I'm going to be blunt then and ask you if you'd rather fuck me, have me fuck you, or something else -- we could suck each other off, too, or just do what we did yesterday and rub off against each other." Edmund's hands rubbed along Eustace's back, down to his arse and cupping his cheeks. "I leave it up to you to decide this first time."

Eustace swallowed. He had always imagined Edmund taking him, somehow, although he had of course been in the opposite role with Jill. It was unexpectedly tempting, the idea of having Edmund below him... but then, he thought it might be more complicated with a man, and he didn't want to risk hurting Edmund or even just leaving him unsatisfied.

"Please, I want you to f-fuck me," he stuttered, his voice breaking alarmingly. "This time."

Edmund chuckled kindly at that, and said, "We can perhaps try it the other way around tonight, then, if you like. Let me just get what we'll need from my bag, then." He disappeared briefly, coming back with a jar of petroleum jelly which he set on the table beside the bed. He laughed a little, and then looked sad, and Eustace asked what he was thinking about.

Flushing, Edmund said, "I was Caspian's first, too, or I think I was." He bit his lip. "I know that he admired Peter, but I don't know for certain what he did or didn't do about that."

"Was Caspian the first _you_ slept with?" Eustace asked.

"Oh, no." Edmund shook his head. "I don't know what it's like at your school, but mine, perhaps because it was all boys, kept up some of those not-so-fine traditions where older boys choose younger ones to be their fags: shine their shoes, make their toast, and some other "services" as well. I managed to be chosen by a relatively decent fellow, and when I was one of the senior boys I refused to have a fag myself. They let me get away with it mostly I suppose because I was good at rugby and fencing. Anyway. You don't want to hear about all that."

"I'd like to know about you," Eustace contradicted, but he wasn't so keen on hearing Edmund's stories of his school days just then that he objected when Edmund tugged him over to the bed.

"Help me," said Edmund, and together they turned back the bedclothes and slid into the clean white sheets. Edmund's lips were firm-soft as he kissed Eustace's throat. When he licked at the hollows of Eustace's collarbones, Eustace gasped and clutched at him.

"T-tickles."

"All right." Edmund moved lower, then, until his teeth grazed Eustace's left nipple, suckling and biting at it until it was swollen and tender, and then moving to do the same to the right one. Eustace gave himself up to the sensation, so much so that he was surprised when Edmund's lips found his again.

He kissed back, trying to convey all the excitement and desire that he felt. Edmund's legs were entwined with his own, and Eustace rocked his hips, seeking friction against Edmund's sweat-damp skin.

"Slow down a bit, there's no rush," Edmund told him, and Eustace felt a little ashamed of his impatience.

"Soon? Please?" he begged, and Edmund kissed him again.

"I suppose in your position I wouldn't want to wait either. Right. It'll probably be easier, not so awkward for you, if you roll over and get on your hands and knees."

As Eustace did so, Edmund reached for the little jar, opening it and dipping his fingers in.

"This is much better than what I had with Caspian," he remarked. "I'm putting some on me, but I'm going to use it on you, too, to stretch and relax you a bit so that it won't hurt, or at least, not much. Often it does hurt the first time, but if it's bad, tell me and I'll stop. All right?"

"All right." It felt very odd to have his arsehole touched by someone else. Jill had been happy to play with his prick and bollocks, but she'd never shown any interest in reaching further back, and Eustace had been shy of asking her to do so. His own solo experimenting had been quite limited. Thus when Edmund's questing finger found his prostate, Eustace nearly jumped off the bed at the unexpected sensation. He knew what it was -- Harold owned an anatomy text that Eustace had often looked at -- but he hadn't realised that it could feel like _this_.

"Oh -- _Edmund_ \--"

"Good, eh?" Edmund brushed over the spot again. "Some fellows don't like it, I guess, but I'm glad you're not one of them."

Oddly, or so Eustace thought, his erection flagged while Edmund was stimulating his arse, but he didn't mind that; he'd worried that he might come much sooner than Edmund did.

"I think you're ready now," said Edmund.

"Yes. Yes, _please_." Eustace couldn't quite add, "I need you," though that was what he was thinking.

Edmund kissed Eustace's shoulder, and then knelt up behind him. Eustace could feel the blunt head of Edmund's cock, wider and yet softer than his fingertips, nudging Eustace's arsehole. He swallowed and tried hard to recapture the pleasant excitement he'd just experienced, and bit by bit he felt Edmund slide inside. There was fullness, and pressure, not bad but not quite _good_ , either, until Edmund began to move, and then it _did_ feel good, although there was a definite stretch and ache as well.

"Eustace --" Edmund's voice broke. " _Oh_ \--" his fingers dug into Eustace's hips, and he began to thrust more quickly. The faster pace made Eustace feel a little sore, but not enough to want to tell Edmund to stop, not when he felt proud to be making Edmund so aroused that he couldn't quite control himself.

So Eustace hung on, his hands gripping the sheets below him, making sounds of encouragement, until Edmund came with a groan that sounded torn from his throat.

"Eustace, Eustace, I'm sorry," he said after a moment, and withdrew. He put his arms around Eustace's waist and rolled them over so that they were spooned together, Edmund's hands busy stroking Eustace's cock back to hardness and then to orgasm, spilling into Edmund's palm. Eustace felt the trickle of Edmund's come on his thigh, and thought that they were each marked by the other.

"I meant to be gentler," Edmund apologised. "You felt so good, though... I'm sorry."

Eustace brought one of Edmund's hands to his lips and kissed it, tasting himself on Edmund's skin. "It's fine, Edmund. Honestly." He smiled and kissed Edmund's fingertips again. "I'd rather be a little sore from being with you then have had a perfect experience with anyone else, don't you know that?"

He felt Edmund sigh and press his cheek against Eustace's shoulder.

They dozed a little then, before getting up and cleaning each other with a dampened face cloth from the stack of towels that Reginald had thoughtfully left out for them.

On the way to the museum Eustace kept sneaking glances at Edmund and blushing, and Edmund had a rather foolish grin on his face as well.

"I can't quite like the animal exhibits these days the way I did when I was young," Edmund confessed. "It isn't as though they were _Talking_ Animals, of course, but they always remind me of the way that the White Witch turned Narnians who resisted her to stone."

Eustace nodded sympathetically, and by mutual agreement they left those rooms and went to look at the fossils instead.

Harold had given Eustace money to take both Edmund and Reginald out to dinner as a thank-you. Since Reginald wasn't there, they decided that it would be all right to have an extra-nice meal for the two of them, including a couple of glasses of beer apiece, and so they were slightly tipsy when they finally returned to Reginald's flat.

"Eustace," said Edmund as they flung themselves down on chairs, Eustace feeling rather giddy with all the pleasures of the day.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to say thanks." Edmund looked a little embarrassed. "For, well, telling me that you fancy me. I might have moped around for ages longer without ever doing anything to cheer myself up. Which would have been foolish; Caspian married Ramandu's daughter, they had a son, he lived a long and good life. It would have been stupid of me not to let myself do the same. Well, not marry perhaps, but _live_ , properly, not just... exist. And you're -- well, I can't say I would have thought on my own of taking up with you, but I'm glad it's happening."

Edmund's face was so earnest in the harsh electric light that Eustace was moved to go sit at his feet and rest his head against Edmund's knee.

"I was jealous of what you and Caspian had together," he admitted, "but I never begrudged you it, not really. I could see how happy you made each other, and I wished I could be part of such happiness, you understand?"

Edmund stroked Eustace's hair. "Yes. I'm a little surprised you didn't fancy Caspian, rather than me. He was handsomer..."

"He was a king," said Eustace, as if that explained anything.

At Edmund's laugh, Eustace realised what he'd said. "Not that you weren't -- aren't -- a king as well," he said hastily. "But it was _different_ , somehow, perhaps because he was actually ruling at the time, whereas you were sort of retired. You were younger than Caspian, too, nearer my own age, and British, and... well, I felt I understood you better. It was easier to fall in love with you."

The final words came out of his mouth before he could check or censor them. There was a pause, and then Edmund said, "Thank you, Eustace. I can't say that I'm 'in love' with you quite yet, but I _do_ love you, you must believe me when I say that." His voice trembled slightly and Eustace reached for the hand that had been stroking his hair and kissed it.

"I believe you," he whispered.

With a shaky laugh, Edmund said, "Good."

They sat like that for a while, simply enjoying being close. Presently Eustace said, "Shall we, that is, do you want to go to bed?"

"To sleep?" said Edmund in a teasing voice.

"Sleep afterward," said Eustace firmly.

The bed was still tumbled from their earlier encounter, but that merely made it easier to fall into it and start kissing, urgent but unhurried, until they were both breathing hard with the need to do more. Then Edmund showed Eustace what to do, and it was not so very different from being with Jill after all, Eustace thought as the clinging heat of Edmund's arse embraced his cock. He wished he could see that Edmund's face better, but Edmund had suggested that it would be easiest for Eustace to take him the same way he had taken Eustace that morning, and that another time they could try something a bit different. Eustace had been so pleased to hear Edmund casually assume that there would be future times together, many of them, that he went along willingly with Edmund's advice.

It took a good deal of effort, but Eustace was able to heed Edmund's instructions and angle his thrusts to give his cousin the greatest pleasure, although Edmund stroked his own cock as Eustace fucked him. When Edmund came, his arse clenched around Eustace's prick in a rippling rhythm that caught Eustace by surprise and brought him to climax too.

"So, granted that you've only tried it each way once, do you prefer to be top or bottom?" Edmund asked as they lay curled up together, after they had cleaned their teeth and put on their pyjamas and crawled back into bed.

"I'm not really sure." Eustace wriggled a little to get the pillow in a more comfortable position. "Either way was better than with a girl, though. Not that I didn't enjoy that, mind you, but this was definitely a greater pleasure for me."

"How many girls have you been with?" Edmund's question was friendly.

"Just one."

"Jill. It was Jill, wasn't it." Edmund didn't really ask it as question. He had met Jill before while visiting the Scrubbs, for Jill's parents also lived in Cambridge. "I hope you and she are square about that, though."

"Oh yes, we are," Eustace assured him. "We both wanted to learn what it was all about, and since we're good friends, it seemed sensible to practise with each other."

Edmund chuckled. "I don't suppose that whoever named Experiment House expected that there would be _that_ kind of experimenting going on. Though perhaps they _did_ expect it since it's a mixed school."

"Anyhow," Eustace said, "Jill and I aren't, never were, boyfriend-girlfriend in the usual way. So _that's_ all right."

They stayed awake until the small hours of morning, talking of everything and nothing, of university life and Narnia and what their respective families would think if it were ever discovered that they were queer. Edmund thought that his brother and sisters would be all right with it, although he wasn't sure about his parents.

"I don't honestly know," said Eustace thoughtfully, lying with an arm flung over Edmund's chest, his head pillowed on Edmund's shoulder. "Harold likes to claim that he's an advanced thinker, not tied to convention and tradition, but I just don't know how he'd react to having his only child turn out a poofter. And Alberta is likely to go along with whatever he says."

"It isn't as if we're planning to make any sort of public announcement, after all," said Edmund. "I mean, you're still in school, for one thing. If we stay together -- and I don't know why we mightn't -- once you've finished at university would be soon enough."

Eustace nodded and yawned, a rush of contentment going through him at Edmund's words.

"When is your train tomorrow?" asked Edmund.

"8.52 from King's Cross," answered Eustace.

"And it's," Edmund peered at the alarm clock, "goodness, it's nearly three right now. We'd better get some sleep."

Eustace only just caught his train in the morning. They said their good-byes in Reginald's flat, which Edmund was going to tidy up before he left, and then Eustace hurried away.

* * *

  
The rest of the winter holidays passed quickly. Eustace had a letter from Edmund two days after his return to Cambridge, in which Edmund suggested that they might write to each other until the Easter holiday. He hoped they would be able to meet then, although they probably wouldn't be so lucky as to be able to have much private time together again.

Eustace was delighted to take up the offer and wrote Edmund regularly throughout the term, two or sometimes three times each week. Edmund's replies were not quite as frequent, but equally passionate.

Jill, quite naturally, asked Eustace if he had told his cousin about his feelings over the Christmas hols, and Eustace, blushing, let her know that not only had he told Edmund, but he'd done something about it.

"I suppose that means you won't want to spend time with me anymore," said Jill, looking at her feet as she scuffed up fir needles. They were walking over the grounds at Experiment House on a damp and cold January day.

"Well..." Eustace felt a little embarrassed. "Not like we _were_ doing, probably, but I still think of you as my closest friend, Jill."

They walked silently for a little while, hands shoved deep in their pockets, their breaths blowing out in clouds of steam from their cold-reddened faces.

"I wonder if we'll ever go back to Narnia," said Jill presently, her voice wistful. "Aslan told your cousins when it was their last time, and he never told us that, but it's been years now. So perhaps we won't."

"I don't know," Eustace said. "Oh, I say, Edmund wrote me that he had a letter from Professor Kirke, inviting the Pevensies and you and me to his house to spend the day, Monday in Easter week I think it is. So we can all at least talk about Narnia, even if we're not there."

"That'll be fun," said Jill after a moment, and she slipped her hand into Eustace's pocket to enlace her fingers with his.

* * *

  
At Professor Kirke's house the vision of someone who was clearly a Narnian king, for he had a look that was recognisably that of one of Caspian's line, made Jill insist that they were being summoned by Aslan.

"But why wouldn't he just fetch us himself, then, as he did before?" asked Eustace.

Lucy shook her head. "He doesn't ever do things the same way twice," she said. "Perhaps it's because you're older, and he expects you to work out how to get there yourselves."

"But I've no idea how we can," said Eustace, exasperated. "Professor, do you still have the wardrobe that my cousins used on their first visit?"

"Yes, but it's never done anything since. I don't think you can use that," the Professor said.

"You remember, Digory," said Miss Plummer, or rather Aunt Polly, as she had asked all the younger folk to call her that, "how we first got there by using your Uncle Andrew's Rings."

"Those would work, but I haven't had them since our adventure," said the Professor. "I buried them in the garden, and the London house was sold many years ago."

"Assuming they're still there, Edmund and I will get them for you," said Peter firmly.

Everyone turned to look at him in surprise, and he raised his eyebrows.

"What? Professor Kirke may have buried them, but they can still be rightly considered his property. It's just a question of retrieving them from where he left them. Now, it might be difficult to explain, so I think the best plan would be to dress up as workmen and make out as if we're looking into the drains or something. That would give us an excuse to be digging around. Professor, if you can draw us a sketch of the garden and show approximately where the rings ought to be, that will make it easier."

"I won't be able to get down to London for at least a few days," said Edmund. "I'm studying for examinations and I've scheduled extra supervisions for tomorrow and the next day. I can't miss those."

"That Narnian, whoever he was, looked quite urgent," objected Jill, but Peter overruled her.

"Remember, time in Narnia and time here don't follow the same rules. We have no idea how long it will be in Narnia even if we were to take a fortnight here."

Everyone agreed, then, to the High King's plan.

"From what I understand, it wouldn't be safe to send the Rings through the post," said Peter. "Ed and I will bring them up to you two, assuming we do find them. One of us will wire and let you know."

In due course came the wire to say that Peter and Edmund had the Rings. They were to give them over the day when Jill and Eustace were supposed to be going back to school, which made it rather convenient since they could all meet at one of the stations along the way, and Lucy and the Professor and Aunt Polly decided to travel with them too. Before the train had stopped, though, suddenly there was a bump and Eustace and Jill were in Narnia instead, though quite how it happened neither of them understood.

King Tirian was a splendid chap in his own way, and Eustace was glad to do whatever he could do help him, but he did secretly think it a bit hard that for all he was now on his third visit to Narnia, he'd never had the chance to see any of its kings in their rightful place at Cair Paravel. Until almost the last night, when they fought in front of the Stable, he hoped that perhaps they would come up with a strategy to defeat the Calormenes and their plan to take over Narnia, but by the time the defenders of Narnia regrouped for their second sally, Eustace knew there was no hope. He swallowed hard and wished Jill luck, thinking how very alone she looked as she went to shoot, and determining that at least he would sell his own life as dearly as possible. More than anything else, however, he wished that he could have seen Edmund again to say goodbye.

It was good to have a straight Narnian sword in his fist again instead of the curved one he had borne as part of his disguise for several days, and Eustace fought hard. He killed at least two of the enemy, and had knocked down a third but wasn't certain if the thrust had been true, when he was seized from behind and disarmed. He struggled, but was lifted and thrown bodily into the Stable where they had seen the spirit of Tash enter.

Eustace shook his head to clear it. Stable? Yet now he stood in sunlight, as fresh and rested as if he had had a long sleep and a bath. Even his clothes were not what he had been wearing, a mail shirt with quilted undergarments to make it bearable, but rather clean comfortable leggings and tunic such as he had worn on the _Dawn Treader_.

He looked around in wonder and saw -- it couldn't be? He saw Edmund and Lucy and Peter, and the Professor and Aunt Polly as well.

They were talking excitedly amongst themselves when Jill appeared also, and then Tirian, and it was rather overwhelming, though Eustace did his best to sort things out for his own understanding. The oddness of it all seemed less important when Aslan appeared.

The destruction of Narnia that followed was almost unbearable to watch, and Eustace was not ashamed of the tears that stood in his eyes as the land died. He stood beside Edmund and they clasped hands for comfort, and then smiled at each other in sheer delight when, travelling westward, they all realised they now were in a truer Narnia still.

At the garden gates, when he saw Reepicheep, Eustace understood that Caspian, too, must be here, and he wondered what Edmund might do, with both his loves there, old and new.

He need not have worried. After the joys of greeting old friends had calmed, Edmund came and found Eustace, and led him over to where Caspian waited, a little apart.

"I will not choose between you," said Edmund soberly, "for I love you both and I see no reason why I _should_ choose. We have all the time there is to be together. And Eustace -- look you to remain friends with Jill, as well, and mayhap even her lover at times if she wish it and you are not unwilling."

Eustace took in a deep breath and let it out. "That I can do." He held out his hand to Caspian, who first grasped it and then pulled him into an embrace, whispering in his ear, "If Edmund loves you, why then, so shall I."

And so they did.

And they all lived happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> For realpestilence, for her livelongnmarry request. The title is taken from the Dream Academy song of the same name.


End file.
